


Need and Want; Happy Birthday Blake

by SandraMG



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Birthday, Groping, Kissing, M/M, Not much else sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandraMG/pseuds/SandraMG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dammit, if a man can't get a drink on his birthday then what's the point? Adam, thankfully, is able to oblige with the need, and a little of the want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need and Want; Happy Birthday Blake

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY BLAKE!  
> This is really stupid, something really quick I wrote in about 30 minutes because I realized I didn't write something for Blake's birthday. Please let me know about any mistakes. Takes place on Blake's birthday, the day of the season four finale, and has references to the coaches performance and the Swon/Blake performance from the prior night. 
> 
> FUN FACT: I posted on twitter the morning of the finale that I really hoped Blake and Adam would duet on Little Help from My Friends because HOW PERFECT, and the same night THEY SANG IT WITH THE OTHER COACHES. I FELL OFF MY FUCKING CHAIR AND SCREAMED FOR AN HOUR. GOD BLESS
> 
> Okay I'm done ENJOY!

            It’s kind of hard to celebrate your birthday when your heart is about to drop into your stomach.

            _Whoever scheduled the finale for today hates me_ , Blake thought, as he tried to sit still and wait for the crew to set up. It might have been his 37th birthday, but there was no enjoyment to be had in it. For one, the results show was tonight, and he could not be more nervous. He believed so much in his team, could not believe that he had two acts in the finale for the second year running. To that end, however, this meant that everyone was in rehearsals for the day, and he wasn’t allowed to leave the lot until the show ended that night. It meant that for most of the day, Blake was either on set, or confined to his trailer; he wasn’t even allowed to drink until at least an hour before show time, which was absolute bullshit. The producers might have thought it necessary, but if there was one thing Blake Shelton prided himself on, it was his ability to hold his alcohol.

            So there he was, back in his trailer, lounging on his couch, begrudgingly drinking coffee and wondering if he’d stashed any hotel liquor bottles in one of the cabinets. He wasn’t an alcoholic, not really; he knew when to stop, and he didn’t let it run his life. But it was his 37th fucking birthday! If a man was entitled to anything on his birthday, it was a goddamn drink.

             He heard a knock on his trailer and sighed, thinking he was needed back on set for a sound level or some monotonous crap like that. To his relief, Adam came barging up in the steps instead carrying a large bag, looking slightly out of breath as if he’d run through the entire studio.

            “Whoa, hey what’s going on?” Blake asked. With a grin, Adam pulled a large stainless steel thermos and glass out of the bag, and poured up some kind of pink liquid…

            “You have GOT to be shitting me!” Blake yelled, sitting up and reaching out for the glass, not believing it was actually what he thought it was. He took a sip, and as the combination of alcohol and sugar burned a path down his throat, he gave a happy sigh. “How the hell did you even make these?”

            “I’ve watched you make them at least a hundred times Blake, I’m a fast learner.” Adam smirked.

            “How’d you get it on set?”

            “There might have been a little flirting with the PAs,” Adam said, and Blake felt an absurd flare of jealousy. “They’ll live. Anyway, the least I could do was buy you a drink today.” He poured himself a glass and clinked it with Blake’s. “Happy Birthday sir, and good luck tonight.”

            “You mean you’re not still bitter?” Blake smiled

            “Oh no I’m bitter as fuck,” Adam said, in mock seriousness. “But if I have to lose to anyone, I’d want it to be you.”

            Blake laughed. “Here here!”

            Adam took a sip and cringed, “God, these are horrible. Why can’t you be a normal redneck and drink beer?”

            “Then I wouldn’t have my fine figure,” Blake said, finishing his drink and taking Adam’s from him ( _waste not want not_ ).

            “True,” Adam said, and to Blake’s surprise, took his drink back and laid it aside. “That would be a shame.” Blake’s breath caught in his throat as Adam straddled his legs, forcing him to sit back and hold on to the only thing he could (Adam’s hips). 

            “Yeah, I know you like supermodels, so…” Blake whispers, earning him a smack from Adam, unable to keep from laughing. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help it, the song called for it!”

            “You’re such an asshole,” Adam said. With Blake’s hands keeping him firmly rooted to the spot, he resorted to dirty tactics – moving his hips oh so slowly against Blake’s lap, causing Blake’s eyes to close.

            “Do you need anybody?” Adam sang, his lips hovering over Blake’s, who couldn’t take Adam’s usual brand of teasing and closed the gap in a heated, need-right-now kiss. He licked his way inside Adam’s mouth, thrilled that he still tasted like his favorite drink, trying to focus as he felt Adam thrust up against him.

            “I need someone to love.” Blake sang back, grinning as he pulled Adam’s flush against him.

            “You weren’t subtle at all with that by the way.”

            “Shut up and go lock the door.”


End file.
